


Almost Impressed

by Highlander_II



Series: H2's fan_flashworks [66]
Category: Iron Man (Comics), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Peter Parker, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay, Rough Sex, Submissive Peter Parker, Superior Iron Man, somewhat dubious consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23048872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Highlander_II/pseuds/Highlander_II
Summary: "You did pretty good tonight, kid. I'm almost impressed," Mr. Stark said...Blends together the MCU timeline through defeating Thanos with Tony surviving; however, things don't really work out quite so positively and events from SIM slide into play.
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark, peter parker/superior iron man
Series: H2's fan_flashworks [66]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/571885
Kudos: 104
Collections: MCU Kink Bingo Round 4





	Almost Impressed

The coffee shop was strangely empty when Peter walked in. Except for the barista and the one customer seated way in the back. That lone customer was who he was looking for.

Tony Stark had agreed to meet with him for half an hour about an internship opportunity. Peter was nervous as hell. Since Berlin and Thanos he'd only seen Mr. Stark a couple times. And none of those for very long. Rumors had spread that something weird was going on with Mr. Stark and that's why he'd withdrawn and stopped appearing in public. Peter figured it was closer to PTSD and Mr. Stark needed space to recover.

Peter crossed to the table where Mr. Stark was seated and slid into a chair across from him, "Hi!" he began brightly. "Thanks for meeting with me."

* * *

That's where this all began. A meeting about an internship. Now he was on his hands and knees, begging Mr. Stark to fuck him harder and waiting impatiently to find out if he would. Or, if he'd just pull out, come on his back, and leave him wanting like last time.

He was fully dependent on the whims of an eccentric billionaire. And, as he'd recently discovered, he liked it. He wouldn't be able to adequately explain why. He just knew he liked the way he felt when Mr. Stark used him.

And it was always either Mr. Stark or sir. Never Tony. Mr. Stark wouldn't allow it. He'd said Peter needed to earn it. Clearly he hadn't yet, even after two years. So, he waited patiently, did what he was told, all in hopes to one day earn the privilege.

Tonight was a good night: Mr. Stark had dragged him to the very plush sofa in the den, turned on the TV, and began fucking him hard while some loud action movie blared behind them. Sometimes he would catch Mr. Stark thrusting in time to the heavy beats of the movie's soundtrack. It made him smile a little - to know the kind of music Mr. Stark liked and get a taste of his enthusiasm.

Mr. Stark thrust hard into him and grunted as he spilled himself inside him. Peter gripped the back of the sofa and tried to hold back his own orgasm. Mr. Stark hadn't yet given him permission. There was no guarantee that he would either. Sometimes the uncertainty was unbearable. But not as bad as not coming for a month (that one time was plenty - he didn't plan to repeat that mistake).

"Kid, you've been fucking amazing tonight," Mr. Stark panted against Peter's ear. "I think I want to reward you."

Peter remained silent. He would speak when it was necessary. One of the things Mr. Stark had liked least was his tendency to babble. It had taken him months, but he'd learned to curb his impulses. Now all those words tended to just manifest in his head. Sometimes he'd write them down - if he could write fast enough to keep up with his head - but most of the time they just swirled around his brain until he could get them to go away.

"Would you like to jerk off for me or for me to strap you into the machine?" Mr. Stark asked, pushing his cock hard into Peter's ass once before he withdrew and collapsed into the sofa.

Peter took a moment to catch his breath. "I - I'd like to jerk off for you, sir," he answered. Nearly sitting on his hands to keep from jumping the gun. He loved performing for Mr. Stark.

"Good. Stand there and show me. Make it good. I want to hear you."

"Yes, sir." Peter pushed to his feet and stood where Mr. Stark could see him clearly. He wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to stroke slowly the way he knew Mr. Stark liked him to. "Am I permitted to come, sir?" he asked, his breath shaky after being fucked so thoroughly.

"Maybe." Mr. Stark waved a hand almost absently. "You need to earn it. And I want a show."

"Of course, sir." Peter moved his hand - still slowly. It was going to be torture either way. He was ready to burst as it was.

He kept his eyes focused on Mr. Stark while he slid his hand up and down the shaft of his own cock. A soft little sound bubbled up from his chest and he let it roll over his tongue. The only reaction from Mr. Stark was a slightly raised eyebrow. Peter kept going. The sounds he made got louder and lewder, building up to an obscene series of pants and moans.

His legs were starting to shake. His breathing had turned to gasping pants long ago. If he were permitted to speak, he would beg Mr. Stark to let him come. But all he could do was moan and whine to get Mr. Stark's attention.

Peter was beginning to think he wasn't doing enough when Mr. Stark finally leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"Come here," he commanded. Peter stumbled his way to where he was wanted, his legs barely able to hold him up at this point. "You are such a beautiful thing when you're obedient," Mr. Stark said. Then he trailed the tip of one finger around the head of Peter's cock. "And now you're so deliciously desperate aren't you?"

Peter nodded. He wasn't sure if Mr. Stark wanted a response or not, but he got one anyway. It was absolute torture not to come right now. He knew if he did, he'd be punished, but the pain was nearly unbearable at this point. He wanted to beg. He wanted to rub his cock against Mr. Stark's hand. He just desperately wanted to come.

Tears burned in his eyes. He stuck his feet to the floor to keep from falling over. Then he let out a tiny squeaking whimper.

Mr. Stark's eyes shot up to focus on Peter's face. "Someone is very very desperate and greedy aren't they?" he asked in a tone that said he was not wanting a response. "I should make you wait longer, but I'd really like to see you finish for me. Lay down on the couch. I want it all on you." A beat. "But don't stain my couch."

Peter nodded eagerly. Probably more eagerly than necessary. Then he unstuck his feet and stretched himself out on the couch beside Mr. Stark. He opened his legs to give an adequate view, then stroked himself as slowly as he could manage to give Mr. Stark the rest of his show.

It didn't take him very long at all to spill his come all over his chest. Long ropey spurts that he could hardly control. Once he was finally done, he all but melted into the plush fabric beneath his skin, "Thank you, sir," he panted happily.

Mr. Stark offered a grunted reply. It was pretty typical. Mr. Stark rarely touched him when they weren't fucking. Peter didn't really mind most of the time, but moments like this, he really needed some contact.

He was laying there on the couch, trying to control his emotions, biting his lip and keeping his eyes closed. It was hard. He was two steps from begging Mr. Stark to touch him when he felt a gentle hand on his knee.

Peter peeled his eyes open and stared in amazement at the hand on his leg. What? That wasn't something that happened. He wasn't sure what to do.

"Go clean up, then come back here. No - meet me in the bedroom."

"Yes, sir," Peter replied before he lazily rolled himself off the couch and walked on wobbly legs to the bathroom.

In the bedroom, Mr. Stark was stretched out naked on the bed. Peter waited at the end of the bed for his next instruction. When he was beckoned closer, he moved. Tentatively.

"Stretch out here," Mr. Stark said and patted the bed beside him. "I'll give you more of what you want."

That made Peter's stomach flip. He wanted so many things. Primarily, he wanted to cuddle up next to Mr. Stark and fall asleep. He crawled into the bed and laid down where he'd been told. Mr. Stark curled an arm around Peter and pulled him right up against his side. "Thank you, Sir," Peter said again, sighing contentedly.

"You did pretty good tonight, kid. I'm almost impressed," Mr. Stark said and dragged Peter even closer.

That was new. Peter almost never got compliments from Mr. Stark. He must have done really well this time. He settled in as close as Mr. Stark would allow, muttered a soft and heart-felt 'thank you,' then drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow he would try again to be just as good and be what Mr. Stark wanted him to be.


End file.
